A Truth They Once Knew But Chose To Forget
by I.heart.good.fiction
Summary: Arthur and Ariadne have been keeping secrets that they never cared to tell, but when they have to suddenly save Cobb, can they get over their pasts…and their feelings for each other? Regular updates. IC. ArxAr. Bonus Chapter:How to get to limbo, for real.
1. Chapter 1

_(This will be a five chapter story, unless people want me to continue...enjoy. It will parallel inception in may ways: first off, you probably won't understand it the first time (I recommend reading again once you finish), secondly, the first passage will make a lot more sense at the end, and I use A TON of dialogue from the movie directly in the script. Real romance comes third and fourth chapter, so be patient. Enjoy!_

_Also: as a bonus I will include step by step instructions on how to reach limbo for real in the sixth chapter. Now, limbo doesn't actually physically exist the way it is portrayed in the movie; you can't share dreams with others, and you can't be stuck in limbo for years. Typical dream time is three to four hours, even though you are actually physically dreaming for about 20 mins when you sleep. All will be explained later. Basically, you can dream a dream where you are in control and are basically god for a few hours, and create your environment. Enjoy the story, and look forward to the bonus!_

_Interesting Fact of the chapter: Some people believe that if you ponder a question before bed, your subconscious will answer it by morning.)_

The first thought in Ariadne's mind was, "Where's the knight?"

Now, she didn't mean her Knight in Shining Armor, but her totem, which was no longer a bishop but a knight. A silver knight, too. She found it a better totem than her previous golden chess piece.

Her surroundings seemed very strange; she was in a place she'd never been before, a bar, and she found herself longing for her totem, but was distracted. She felt disoriented, almost drunk; the way she'd felt before extraction, whenever she dreamed naturally.

"Knight," she kept thinking, "Knight!" but it would not come to her. A flitting thought went briefly through her head; that this must be real, because in a dream the totem always came, and she must have left the totem at home-but the idea passed. There wasn't any logic in a dream. Not in a natural dream.

There was only emotion.

She turned to the man next to her, who was telling her a story. She barely paid him heed, and in her mind there was an absence; an absence of something, a memory perhaps, something she once knew but had chosen to forget.

Suddenly the still void was broken and filled, when the bartender came up and asked if she'd like a drink. At the sound of his voice, the emptiness that was once within her heart disappeared.

His face was familiar, but she couldn't put a finger on who it was. Black, emotionless eyes peered at her, eyes that were intriguing on every level. He wore a silver vest that was quite fashionable, and his black hair was gelled to perfection, every hair in its place.

He stared at her strangely and said,

"You're quite something. Cobb said nobody has ever picked it up as fast as you have. Do you want me to fix you a drink?"

Her head was spinning. She could have sworn she'd seen this man before, but the name escaped her... She tried to ask him if they'd met, but something held her back and she could not speak.

"He was right, you know," the dark haired figure continued. "It's incredible. You're like the Ariadne of myth; the mortal who lead heroes out of the impossible maze, the labyrinth, with a piece of twine."

She barely comprehended his words and murmured, "Arnold...Archie..."

He smiled slyly and leaned over the counter, putting her chin in his hand.

"I like incredible women, Ariadne."

The words sounded wrong. They...they weren't his. They were something she wanted him to say, something she'd hoped he'd say but he hadn't.

His touch was cool and his hand was surprisingly soft. Suddenly the proverbial lightbulb lit up over her head.

Memories flooded her.

Yes...they'd been in the workshop...Cobb was out retrieving Eames and Yusuf, and ...he...the bartender...he'd just shown her paradoxical architecture. She'd been drawing up plans for the second level, his level, when she'd fallen asleep...and then, the cool touch.

She'd remembered waking up and looking up into the dark, soft eyes, and noticing for the first time, how enticing they were. How their mystery and their utter lack, or perhaps, their perfected masking of emotion intrigued her.

"Ar...Ar...," she murmured quietly.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you, but I'm going, and you probably shouldn't stay here by yourself," he had said. "Do you need a cab?"

She shook her head, the touch had left, and her heart had sunk.

He'd walked away, vest in place and hair neatly combed. After that, she'd taken pains to carefully observe him, and his character. When they were working together. When they were dreaming together.

Now those same eyes pierced her soul, and she looked away. But the floor of the bar was far less appealing than his face and touch. She felt a need...for him.

Never had she wanted him before, but for some unspoken reason, she wanted him now. He'd only been a coworker, an intruiging one at that...and she'd focused her attention on Cobb. But upon seeing the complexities of Cobb, she realized that he was as troubled as herself. That his memories of a wife, half of his whole, plagued him just as her own memories plagued her. It had been easy to understand Cobb's situation and help him deal with it from a viewer's standpoint.

Dom was just an attraction, one that had faded and died when she truly understood him, before they even did the job.

But this man...these eyes that - not understood, but analyzed (for lack of a better word) her...these eyes that were so intriguing...they were something else.

And after their time in the workshop; after what he had said, and done, and felt with her; there was no other who could fill the void in her heart.

"Arthur," she murmured.

Suddenly she looked up, and all consciousness was hers. She needed Arthur, now. Her survival depended on it.

"Arthur?" she questioned, looking around. He was gone.

"Arthur?" she cried, looking up. Where did he go? He wasn't behind the counter...or sitting next to her, or anywhere.

The huge void returned.

This was all wrong; ever since the incident, she'd always been able to cap her emotions, to hide her love from anyone she encountered. That had earned her reliability; even with Cobb, she'd served as a guide to the maze of his memories, despite how she had once felt about him.

But now emotion dominated over everything; all sense of Vulcan entirety had flown out the window.

She completely lost it, and fell to the floor, kicking and screaming. She needed something badly and she couldn't find it. It wasn't there.

"Arthur!"

"Arrrrtthhhhhuuuurrrrrrrr!"

...

* * *

Arthur woke up to the sound of a particular annoying British accent.

"Well, is everyone alright?"

He moved stiffly, took a brief look around, and removed the dreaming device from his wrist. Yusuf yawned, then hurried to the bathroom. That free champagne had taken its toll. He remembered to stop and drug Fischer a bit, so that they'd have time to remove the sleeping apparatus from him before he woke up.

"Looks like they're all okay," said the flight attendant, who had suddenly appeared at Arthur's side. She winked at him slyly; ten hours of staring at him had gotten the best of her.

He responded the way he did with almost all women; he ignored her. He couldn't afford to notice them after...what had happened.

Saito had awakened, but he had a startled look in his eyes and was breathing heavily. Cobb was in front, out of his view. He turned to look at Ariadne, and raised an eyebrow. Her face seemed at total peace, for a moment. She had such a dolly, young face; Arthur recalled thinking at first that she didn't look older than sixteen. But as he'd gotten to know her...well, things had changed. Ariadne was a brilliant young woman, and he suspected she knew more about Cobb's troubles than she let on. They couldn't have done the job without her.

Suddenly Ariadne's face contorted, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. She looked as if she was in great pain.

Arthur bolted from his seat and looked at her with concern.

"What's, eating you, Arthur?" muttered Eames lazily, removing the device from his wrist."Got your knickers in a twist over somebody?"

Eames was in an exceptionally good mood. He couldn't believe they'd just gotten out of that job alive and with brains completely intact. So now it was time to mock Arthur (an activity which was almost as much fun as knocking Arthur out of chairs in his sleep) who was currently giving him a very dirty look.

He turned back to Ariadne."You all right?" he murmured, putting a hand on her shoulder. He realized when she didn't respond that she was still asleep.

Eames had gotten out of his seat and clapped a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He hadn't noticed that Ariadne was sleeping.

"Speaking of which, I'm surprised you two lovebirds didn't just book a room there in the hotel," he chuckled. Eames knew Ariadne would laugh (or maybe blush-he suspected that the two had a thing going on. Why the gorgeous young architect would pick the less than interesting Arthur, he had no idea); she had some sense of humor, unlike this stick in the mud.

Arthur, who had no idea Eames was joking and hadn't actually seen...that, turned at him furiously.

"You saw that?-!" he shouted, startling the flight attendant. He'd looked around to make sure no one was there! How had Eames noticed his and Ariadne's...exchange?

That had been a sensitive moment for Arthur. He'd needed a distraction, but...his whole consciousness had told him to hold back. Not after what happened. He could never love again and let a woman twist his heart in two, destroying all practicality. 'It's only a dream,' had been his justification, and 'it's strictly business, nothing else,' but deep down, as much as he hated to admit it...

He'd enjoyed it.

The Brit was about to reply, "See what?" when she began to groan.

Ariadne tossed and turned in her seat, mumbling gibberish. Arthur put a hand to her chin and tried to shake her. That always woke her up; but now the sedation must have been too strong.

"Hey, you're okay...you're okay... wake up...Ariadne? Ariadne!" he pleaded, getting more and more concerned by the minute.

She kept tossing violently, mumbling to herself. Suddenly a cold hand of fear gripped Arthur's heart.

The sleeping apparatus had fallen from her wrist and was lying on the floor.

"Oh, hell," muttered Eames, who had seen it too. His good mood instantly vaporized.

Arthur picked up the limp wire and stared at it in disbelief. This wasn't happening...

Suddenly anger pulsed through him and he turned to the flight attendant in rage.

"How could you let this fall off her wrist?-! How could you screw this up, it was the simplest job in the the world..."

The flight attendant looked panicked. "I didn't know...There...There was turbulence, I didn't-" she stuttered, but Arthur wouldn't hear of it.

"You're the lookout!"

"How was I supposed-"

"No payment for you! Zero!"

"Enough. What's she saying?" interrupted Eames.

Arthur looked at him begrudgingly and said,

"I don't know...Ar, something. Why does it matter now? She's probably gone. You know what happens if the device is removed prematurely-"

" Arthur, don't you have any imagination?" said Eames.

"What does imagination have anything to do with it? She's dying-"

"Have some hope for once, won't you? She's still alive, she might make it out! She was on the first level with us, so there's a good chance that she survived. Now what is she saying?"

They listened closely to her mutterings, Arthur sour. He tried not to hope. Ever since...then, he never hoped again. Every time he had a hope, it failed. It was best to be practical about things, and reserved in emotion. A haunting memory returned, but he shut it out.

Eames took a few guesses at interpretation.

"Ar...Argentina? Ar... Armadillo? Arkansas? Is it her own name, Ariadne?-! What is she trying to-"

He was interrupted by a long wail of,

"Aaaaaarrrrrttthhhhhuuuurrrrr!"

This startled both men, but especially Arthur. She was alive, thank God, but was she still sane? And why was she calling his name?

She began to scream, causing Fischer to stir. Eames quickly rushed to put a bag on his head.

"Arthur! Arthur! Arrrrtthhhhh-"

He shook her shoulders violently.

"Ariadne, stop it, wake up! Wake up, come on, wake-"

Suddenly her eyes popped open, and she looked extremely frightened.

"Goodness, what was that all about?" muttered Eames, who had returned.

Shaking, she but both hands around Arthur's wrist, which was still on her shoulder. Her grip was like iron, and she asked, "Arthur?"

He nodded.

"I'm here. What's going on, what happened?"

She just shook and repeated his name, as if assuring herself that he was really there.

Suddenly everything came back to her and she realized where she was. The Boeing 747; she had just survived the job. Cobb. Where was he?

She was about to panic when she saw Saito look over Eames' shoulder. A sigh of relief ran through her; Cobb must have rescued him. They were okay. Arthur repeated his request; "What happened?"

She took a small breath.

"I thought that you can't dream naturally anymore after going under a lot," she said softly. Arthur squinted, being naturally suspicious.

"That happens to most people, but not all."

She simply nodded.

"Oh."

He wanted to know more, but she wasn't telling. She couldn't just say she had been longing for his presence and that's why she'd kicked and screamed.

Arthur finally leaned back, releasing her tiny frame and murmuring,

"I still dream."

His eyes asked for more, but she was hesitant.

"Arthur...can your dreams- natural dreams- tell you something? About yourself?"she asked, appearing distracted.

He narrowed his eyes and appeared confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Can they provide you the answers...to questions you have? Emotionally, I mean."

Arthur shrugged impatiently. She wasn't acting like herself; normally she was composed and thought logically- like him.

"I don't know. Never happened to me. Some people say you can ponder a question before bed and your subconscious will answer it by morning, but it's a debatable theory. Now are you going to tell me what happened?"

His voice seemed a bit...not threatening, but it demanded an answer.

Ariadne shrunk back in her seat, not liking being under scrutiny by his eyes. Arthur's eyes were always relaxed when they looked over her, full of interest and sometimes admiration. She hated the scrutiny in them, the questioning, the suspicion, which was the look he gave everyone else, save Cobb. If he could look affectionate, he did so when she was there. On off moments too; when she was describing a layout, or just staring into space.

But the look now was unbearable. He stared at her for a few more seconds, asking for an answer, but she huddled, clutching her knees, and would not respond. She couldn't tell him her subconscious had begged for his presence and screamed when it hadn't gotten its wish.

He finally backed away, but the look remained. In truth, he was just concerned. He was very afraid that, as Eames would say, her brain might have "been turned to scrambled egg."

Ariadne was refreshing, focused, intelligent, but sensitive. He would miss her companionship.

As he walked back to his seat, dissatisfied, she noted his vest and the hair. Now she understood.

The first time he'd walked away, after waking her up, in a silver colored coat, out of the workshop, she'd thought, 'He's as mysterious and chivalrous as a knight.'

A knight...a knight in-

"Cobb?"

It was Eames' voice.

"Cobb!"

They all turned to face Cobb's seat.

He wasn't stirring.

"Oh, God," muttered Arthur.

Yusuf hurried over.

"He's not waking?"

There was a hushed silence over the whole group.

"Maybe we can go back under-" began Yusuf, but Arthur shook his head. He had a solemn, almost sad look in his eyes.

"It's over. He's gone. There's nothing we can do."

"That's what you said about Ariadne a second ago," mumbled Eames, but there was no animation in his voice. This time he agreed with Arthur. Araidne had made it back with them up to the first level of the dream, but Cobb...Cobb was back in limbo.

Ariadne was still flustered from her dream and confused.

"But...he went to rescue Saito. And you're here..." she mumbled. "Saito...where's Cobb?"

Saito looked shaken and simply said, "I don't know. I woke on the shore of a strange country, engulfed by water. When I looked up, there was a skyscraper that seemed to be entirely made of sand."

She nodded, and Eames said, "Pray continue."

Saito shrugged, as if trying to shake off a memory.

"The top of the building collapsed, and came hurtling down towards me. And then, I was here. On the plane."

Arthur narrowed his eyes.

"You mean, you died?"

Saito gave him a strange look.

"Frankly, I did."

Arthur was astounded. "You mean to tell me that if you are killed in Limbo, you wake up, even under sedation? It's that easy?"

"Well..." muttered Ariadne, embarrassed, "That's how Cobb escaped with Mal the first time...they used a train. That's why...on the first level...there was...and that's why he won't build-" she stumbled till her words trailed off, and she cringed under Arthur's gaze. They were emotionless, as usual, but she imagined a disappointment in them. Arthur was her teacher, her mentor, and she had always been keeping secrets from him. Secrets of her past, secrets of her present, and secrets of Cobb. Secrets that she was dying to share with him, but never had. It was too late now.

There was a heavy, grave silence. 'It's over,' was the common thought. But Ariadne remembered the light, and the desperation, in Cobb's eyes when he had said he would return home to his children. If they just stood by...His children would never get to know their father. They would never see him again. And worse, they would grow up thinking he had killed their mother, and that he had never cared about them.

"We have to go under," she said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Arthur shook his head, ever practical. "By now, he's probably been down there centuries, it's too late-"

"Exactly, that means every second we wait may be another month for Cobb."

"We haven't prepared, there aren't any levels constructed-"

"But we have to try!"

"And risk losing ourselves, too?"

By this point, she was furious.

"How can you be so selfish?-! You've worked with Cobb for years, he's the closest thing you've ever had to friend, and you're just going to let him go without a fight?"

"Ariadne-"

"I thought I knew you better-"

Arthur was on the verge of losing all of his composure which he worked so hard to contain, and finally said, "It's not me I'm worried about losing!"

There was a silence as she comprehended his meaning.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, regretting his words, which were very out of character for him to say.

"You have to keep it under control," he thought to himself, but felt an internal struggle that had been brewing for months unleash.

Ariadne saw bitterness and defeat in those eyes, and she was sad; but she would not know defeat as he did. Arthur gave up too easily; not only Cobb had a dark past. She suspected there was something in Arthur's heart that he'd buried away, a truth he'd once known but chosen to forget. And unlike Cobb, he wasn't willing to share.

Ariadne would pursue, as she always had.

"Yusuf!" she shouted. He turned to her, startled.

"Give me the compound," she said.

"Wha-I can't-" he stumbled, and Arthur stepped in front of her assertively, grabbing her wrist.

"The sleeping device was removed from you prematurely. You might not be thinking straight...we need to get you to a doctor-"

"Half my share, Yusuf!" shouted Ariadne, who broke free of Arthur's grip using a wrenching technique he himself had taught her. She rushed to the back of the first class cabin, and Yusuf passed her the bottle and the syringe. A look of understanding passed between them, and Yusuf picked up Arthur's wire of the dream share device. He also checked to see if Cobb's was intact.

Ariadne was the most sensible of them all, in Yusuf's opinion. She couldn't be bribed, unlike himself, she was willing to take risks, unlike Arthur, but she didn't go beyond reason, unlike Eames, and she didn't let emotion get in the way, unlike Cobb.

She attached the dream share apparatus to her wrist and injected herself with the compound.

"Ariadne, you can't-" Arthur protested, but she ignored him.

"Press the button, Yusuf!"

He rushed over to the machine.

"God damn it, Ariadne! I can't let you go down there alone!" shouted Arthur.

Her nostrils flared and she shouted,

"I don't need babysitting!"

It was one of the things he admired about her. She was independent and didn't like to be sheltered. At least...he thought she didn't like to he sheltered.

In truth, Ariadne knew she couldn't be. Because eventually she would destroy her shelter and tear it to shreds.

He reached for his wire of the sleeping apparatus and to his surprise, Yusuf was already attaching it. Arthur looked at Ariadne in shock as she stabbed him with the syringe.

"You're right. I can't go alone or I'll be lost," she said, silently thinking ,"and if I have to go there with anyone, I want it to be you."

This was a different kind of shelter, one she didn't mind. She needed Arthur there or she could lose her grip on what was real and what was a dream. He of all people would know.

Arthur gave one more attempt to protest, and she couldn't fail but notice the shock in his eyes.

She'd tricked him.

Normally pulling such a stunt would have made her proud, but on Arthur...she felt a bit treacherous.

"It's dangerous," he tried to no avail. "This isn't a good ide-" he trailed, then slumped to the floor as Yusuf pressed the button, smiling at Ariadne.

She had just enough time to smile back before she, too, went under.

...

(Trust me, it gets better people…that opening was pretty bad. Don't worry: I already wrote the entire story, so I will update periodically- Either every two days or every three days. Alerts greatly appreciated, faves too, but most importantly; reviews! I don't care if it's a flame, because flames provide constructive criticism and that helps me improve. So if you have to flame, flame. That's okay. Though CC is nicer. :D)

A Truth They Once Knew, but Chose to Forget

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	2. Chapter 2

(AN: Sorry. This chapter will be **outrageously **short. But cheer up, the next chapter should be outrageously long...4000+ words, maybe more...I haven't counted. Remember: real romance starts next chapter. Also: for anybody tuning in now, I changed the first chapter to have a different AN, so...news flash; I am going to add a bonus chapter about how to get to limbo, for real. Here is the AN from the previous chapter:

_Also: as a bonus I will include step by step instructions on how to reach limbo for real in the sixth chapter. Now, limbo doesn't actually physically exist the way it is portrayed in the movie; you can't share dreams with others, and you can't be stuck in limbo for years. Typical dream time is three to four hours, even though you are actually physically dreaming for about 20 mins when you sleep. All will be explained later. Basically, you can dream a dream where you are in control and are basically god for a few hours, and create your environment. Enjoy the story, and look forward to the bonus!_

Okay. Enjoy the very short chapter.

_Interesting Fact of the Chapter:_ Actor Joseph Gordon Levitt (Arthur) starred in a TV show about aliens, and in one show he stepped on a 'sexymeter' and rated 0. Idiotic producers...)

Cobb awoke to the sound of a laugh. The laugh of James, who was beside Phillipa.  
He felt empty as he emerged from the waves. Time seemed to have flown in one ear and out the other, and Cobb had no idea how long he'd been there. His totem... Mal's totem was long since gone. Mal herself was gone; when she went, the reliability of the totem went. Sometimes it fell. Sometimes it kept on spinning.  
In the back of his mind he felt that the old Saito was a projection, that waking up on the plane was an in-limbo dream (you can dream naturally within limbo) and that James and Phillipa weren't really there.  
He hadn't heard from Arthur or Ariadne in...who knew. He had no clue what year it was.  
But logic didn't seem to apply, now. If he could even come up with logical reasoning, he failed to put it into action. And nothing made any sense. He did not care about anything, nor could he reason with himself.  
It was almost as if he was dreaming naturally, as he had before extraction. Or perhaps he had died and gone to some other worldly state of rest.  
"Strange," thought Dom as the waves overtook him. "James and Phillipa are wearing the same clothes they had on the day I left."

...

* * *

She awoke on a dirty piece of pavement, staring at an overcast sky.  
Her head throbbed, and she slowly recalled what she was doing. They were getting Cobb. She smiled a little when she realized that Arthur would have come with her even if she hadn't forced him. Still disoriented, she gave a little schoolgirlish giggle as Arthur towered over her, something she would have never done in her right mind.  
He stared at her with concern, though it did not show on his face. He'd practiced; little emotion ever came through.  
Ariadne was acting a bit strangely, though she'd always been impulsive. Who knew what had happened to her head on the way up with the device removed?  
She wasn't fit for any more dream travel. She could lose her mind, she might suffer brain damage and slip into oblivion. This worried Arthur a great deal, but he kept his calm and decided to keep moving. They were in this now, and as Dom had said; the only way forwards was downward. There was no other option but to continue.  
Ariadne noted that he was dressed in a long, black, leather trench coat that matched the darkness of his pupils. Actually, it never really seemed that Arthur had any irises, any color to his eyes. They seemed to be a universal black, pupil blended with the iris.  
"I'm not in my right mind," thought Ariadne: "My emotions... Are cloudy..."  
She put a hand to her head and groaned. She had to survive this, overcome her fear and her headache; for Cobb and his children.  
"You alright?" asked Arthur, extending a hand. She nodded hesitantly and took it, letting him help her up.  
"Where are we?" she murmured, taking in their surroundings. They were in a dank, musty alley with dumpsters at the back and cracks in the pavement, full of foul smelling water and trash.  
"Detroit. I must be the dreamer and you the subject in this level. This is all a layout built from memories of my subconscious."  
She looked around, nose wrinkled.  
"Pleasant memories you have, Arthur."  
He shrugged.  
"Lived here when I was young. Decided to go out and find a better life for myself after I got into...some criminal trouble."  
She raised an eyebrow almost playfully, despite the dire situation.  
"You're still in criminal trouble."  
He shrugged and managed to flash a trace of a smile. Now she was acting like her usual self, a bit sarcastic but cheery. He relaxed a little bit.  
"Well, it's the only life for me."  
Ariadne laughed. Arthur had that sly, almost cocky secret-agent smile. Everything about him was mysterious, cool, calm, and composed. He knew how to handle a weapon like a master, was brilliant, always on top of the situation, and the best at what he did. That was why Ariadne felt for him.  
But the moment quickly ended and she got back on topic.  
"We need to get to limbo, as soon as possible."  
Arthur decided she was sane. She was staying focused, despite the jokes, and that was something she always did. Arthur knew her as diligent and determined.  
"Determined and as stubborn as an ass," he thought begrudgingly, though deeply he admired her for it.  
"You know this is impossible, Ariadne. We need at least four team members to get there 'safely'..."  
"Cobb did it with just himself and Mal," she replied.  
Arthur shook his head and muttered dryly,  
"Yeah. That went so well."  
"Well...There are other ways," she said slowly. By this point she was stalling. She was looking for something that was not there.  
Why couldn't she have been the dreamer, and not the subject? Then she could have just thought of something and it would have appeared. But she was not the dreamer.  
Scanning the ground and the rubbish, she finally found what she was looking for.  
A weapon; it was a rusty blade.  
Arthur, suspicious by nature, replied cautiously,"Yes, but none of them are safe...Killing yourself to drop straight into limbo would be highly-"  
He followed her eyes, and realized her action too late.  
She bolted towards the knife and attacked. Arthur lashed out instinctively with his foot and kicked her against the back wall, causing her to crumple against it.  
He immediately rushed to her side, internally smacking himself. He hadn't meant to hit her that hard.  
He knelt down to meet her eyes, but her head hung limp from small shoulders.  
"You alright? I'm sorry...What the hell are you even-"  
Her head snapped up and she stabbed him right in the heart. His mouth formed an "O," as the word "doing" came from his lips half-said.  
Her eyes were full of terror and horror at what she had just done, but she managed to whimper, "Improvising..."  
She watched him crumple up in agony and scream for all he was worth. She wanted to run and hide; this had shaken her up. Arthur had never once lost his composure, but a stab to the heart was more than even the stoic point man could take. He yelled for a while, then started to breath heavy, trying to contain the pain.  
Ariadne did run, out into the street. She couldn't bear to watch him cry out, his trust violated, his eyes full of hurt. She hoped deep inside that Arthur understood; she'd had to do it. But just the same, she felt like a traitor. Stabbing Arthur was a whole different affair than shooting Mal.  
The rusty knife was halfway inside Arthur's chest by now, so she was in need of a new weapon for herself.  
Or not.  
As Arthur's life began to collapse, so did the dream. Buildings started falling, the earth started shaking, and explosions rocked the empty streets of Detroit. There wasn't a single projection.  
She screamed as a ball of fire erupted not even ten feet from where she was standing. Suddenly she longed for someone to be there. Arthur, her mentor, or Cobb, the man for whom she had so much compassion and respect for at the same time. But nobody was there.  
She promptly stepped on a iron manhole cover, which erupted into flames. Never again would she feel a pain quite as great as the pain of being burned alive.  
She screamed for somebody, anybody to accompany her in the valley of the shadow of death. But no one responded.

(That was just a quick filler that wasn't important...I hate fillers but the story wouldn't make sense if you didn't read this chapter, so...darn. The next chapter is where the good stuff begins. :D Alerts and Faves are great, flames are fine, but REVIEWS ARE THE BEST! See you next chapter.)

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	3. Chapter 3

(So sorry this took so long! I seriously had no time. Promise I'll update faster next the beginning of this chappie may seem cliche, but don't worry it gets better by the end. And for all those of you who think I'm just making Arthur's story the same as Cobb's...I'm not. Their loves are using similar dialogue lines because I wanted to incorporate as much as the original movie dialogue in this story as possible (thus the title). Also; I shamelessly stole Arthur's situation from another Joseph Gordon Levitt (actor who plays Arthur) movie called, 'The Lookout.' So his and Cobb's stories are different. Maybe go watching the trailer for 'The Lookout,' before reading this chapter would be a good idea... Here's the link; .com/watch%3Fv%3DRFKRYBgjaYE

(BTW: I didn't watch the movie, only the trailer and it looked really good)

Chapter 3

Arthur coughed and sputtered, his lungs full of water. He was being beaten against a shore, his clothes weighing him down. The trench coat continuously dragged him back into the current, and his large automatic rifle banged clumsily against his side. It took a few moments for him to understand what was happening, because he was being tossed like a cork on the ocean.  
There was a beach, he realized. And he was being pulled, back and forth, through the waves. Getting a hold of himself, he managed to drag his body through the water, which tasted crystal clear despite being from the ocean. After much struggle and coughing, he managed to land on the beach.  
His ruined hair was mopping in front of his eyes, and as he pushed it aside, grumbling, he took in the scenery. There was a vast expanse of decaying city yawning before him.  
"So this is limbo," he muttered, silently thinking that it didn't look like a very pleasant place, and that he was going to kick Ariadne's ass for stabbing him unexpectedly with a random object. Twice. He looked left and right for her, but she wasn't there. Too bad he hadn't got a chance to converse with her; she'd already been here, and she understood Cobb and his experience. Arthur was shooting in the dark.  
He waited for her for a while, then decided to keep moving, discarding the water logged trench coat and the now useless gun. A small pistol was still stored in his belt; a water-proof weapon.  
The streets of limbo were hauntingly familiar. He saw fifth avenue, from New York, and a local street in Paris. Cobb's apartment. His favorite sandwich shop.  
"This place is entirely built from memory," he muttered, wondering just how far the expanse of recreated city stretched. It was all in decay, paint peeling, shutters falling, windows broken; but it was recognizable, nonetheless.  
He was tempted to search Cobb's apartment to go look for him, but he wanted to wait for Ariadne. She probably knew where he was already. After wandering the maze for nearly half and hour, he began to shout her name; but the word echoed throughout the empty streets and returned to him.  
"Ariadne! Ariadne?-!"

The house was old, and abandoned. She felt as if the floor would give way any moment under the pressure of her weight, and cast her down into the water beneath the foundation.  
Curiosity killed the cat, they say, but for Ariadne, curiosity was her fuel. She could never leave well enough alone.  
She searched all the rooms, but none of them yielded success until she reached a brightly colored child's room.  
It gave her chills to see it. The drapery had flowery patterns, the walls were a bright color, and the bed had a princess canopy above it; but the curtain rod had long since fallen on one side, the wall paint was flaking, and there was dust everywhere.  
A child's room, once full of gaiety and laughter, long abandoned and forgotten. The room almost seemed lonely, like it missed its master.  
She made her way through the cobwebs and opened the dollhouse. The safe opened without a further attempt, and its contents shocked Ariadne.  
There, there was Mal's-and Cobb's- totem. In two pieces.  
The division between reality and a dream had disentigrated.  
"Caught by his own trap," murmured Ariadne, who stepped forward to take a closer look. She failed to notice the broken shards of glass from where the fallen curtain rod had shattered the window.  
As she stepped on a piece, there was a resounding twang of breaking glass, and she froze in her steps.  
"How could you ever understand?"  
Ariadne nearly jumped out of her skin when heard the voice. Shakily, she turned and saw the figure of Mal in the bedroom.  
The dead woman walked closer towards her and held Ariadne's chin in her hand. This was not Arthur's touch, cool and reassuring. In fact, this wasn't a touch at all. She placed her hand there, but there was no warmth or even coldness. She was just a ghost, a figment of her imagination.  
"Do you know what it's like to be a lover?"  
Ariadne remembered the first time Mal had said these words. She'd remembered, with pain, a haunting memory, and buried it deeper. Buried the hurt. Buried the tears.  
Buried the truth she'd once known, but had chosen to forget.  
"Do you know what it's like to be half of a whole?"  
A hesitant tear rolled down Ariadne's cheek. She tried to whisper, but her voice was barely audible.  
"N-no. I don't, Mal."  
She tried not to think of Arthur.  
Who was this madwoman, that she could open these wounds that had long since healed? These cuts that had closed but left a scar on her heart?  
How could Mal ever know these words would hurt her?  
Ariadne gave in and let herself think of Arthur for a brief second; then everything broke loose.  
It was only a dream that he'd ever felt for her. Literally. Yes, there had been that time in the workshop, that kiss in the hotel, but it was nothing. She prayed it was nothing.  
She didn't want to hurt Arthur, to twist his heart and rip it in two. Surely, that was what she would do given the chance.  
Oh, how Mal could hurt her so!  
She sobbed and fell to her knees. Now she never wanted to see Arthur again, to bear the shame of seeing a man so perfect.  
Or rather...seeing a man with problems. Problems she'd surely make worse.  
Mal seemed to tower over her, and she shifted her hand from Ariadne's chin to her neck, causing her to choke.  
"You didn't let yourself even hope he could love you, child?"  
She gagged and gasped.  
"S-Stop. You're my subconscious...shouldn't you treat me kindly?"  
Yes, it was clear now. Mal knew her fears, her weaknesses...because she was a part of her. A projection of her subconscious.  
Mal laughed, but her laugh changed slowly over time. It became deeper, and more powerful.  
Suddenly Ariadne realized with terror that it was no longer Mal grasping her neck, but...him. Austin.  
"You pathetic human being. You think anybody could love you, once they know what you've done?"  
"S-stop-"  
"Don't waste your breath child. You chose me and you have to deal with the consequences."  
"I didn't choose this-"  
"Oh, yes you did. Don't try to fake it. You chose me."  
"But this isn't what I wanted..."  
"Perhaps. But you don't know what it is child, to be a true lover. To be one half a whole. That whole has always been you, you, you. And now there's just a hole in your soul. A hole that can never be filled."  
"It can be. I know that now."  
"You hoped that. You hoped it could be filled. But you were wrong. Even now you are uncertain of your words."  
"Stop! I don't have to take this from you! You're not real!" she choked.  
"Am I, now?" he asked.  
He let go of her and she fell to the floor, gagging and rubbing her neck, trying to breathe.  
He chuckled softly as he knelt to meet her eyes.  
"This look familiar, child?"  
Ariadne's eyes widened in rage when she saw his new form.  
"How dare you! How-how can you take something so precious to me..."  
"Don't bother. Tell me, how does it feel to stab the one you love in the heart? Twice?"  
She wanted to throttle him, but he'd only sidestep. For he'd taken on the shape of Arthur.  
"You gonna betray me again, princess? Hide secrets from me when I told you everything? Stab me with a rusty blade?"  
She fumed silently and tried to conceal her rage from her own subconscious.  
Inside she didn't understand. Only a little while ago, her subconscious had told her, in a dream, that Arthur could fill the void. That he was the answer she sought.  
But now, it taunted her and teased her, again appearing in the form of Arthur but mocking her.  
The projection answered her internal question, for he was a part of her.  
"He can fill the hole alright, and make you whole again. But you'll tear him out, you'll break his heart, you'll kill him, even if he was attracted to you-"  
"Stop!" she screamed with venom and hate, putting her hands to her ears."I won't listen to you anymore!"  
The man simply smiled, returning to his original form and losing the shape of Arthur.  
He reached into her pocket and retrieved the silver knight.  
"Give me that!" she said, but he put it out of her reach.  
"Just how real am I, Ariadne?"  
"Give it to me!"  
"No."  
She'd had enough of this. She couldn't let him torture her as Mal tortured Cobb. It's so much easier to give advice when you're not the one making decisions.  
She drew the pistol from her back pocket and fired immediately, then stared in shock when the figure just laughed.  
She didn't see that the gun wasn't loaded at all. She just saw her subconscious very much alive, and assumed it had survived gunfire.  
"Wha...how-"  
"Just remember Ariadne," he said viciously as he closed a fist around the silver knight,  
"You'll never be half a whole. You just will have a hole in your heart. And if you ever try to fill that hole...with him," he said with a sneer, showing her the silver knight in shining armor, "then this will happen."  
She screamed as he clenched his fist and the totem crumbled into dust. And then he was gone.

...

* * *

Arthur remembered the accident with astounding clarity. But he didn't ever mention it to anyone.

"Mother?" he asked in disbelief.

She sat in a bathrobe at the kitchen table, sighing with a mug of coffee in her hand.

"When are you going to get married, Arthur?"

He narrowed his eyes, disbelieving her presence.

"Mother..."

"Katherine has been such a good girl, waiting all these years...don't lead her on, child. Just marry her. You do love her, don't you?"

At that point Arthur almost had a seizure. Why? Why did his mother have to be cruel like this, and open wounds which had long since healed, but left a scar? She may have lost her sanity, but to bring this up again...After he'd worked so hard to squelch his feelings, to be calm and cool and suave...

"Mother..." he mumbled with a lump in his throat..."You know Katherine is..."

"Waiting?"

"No..."

She stood up and brushed his cheek with her hand.

"You really are mean, Arthur, making her wait so long."

He felt the place where the ring once graced his finger, and to his surprise, found it there.

"What the hell..." he mumbled, and his mother made a tsking noise.

"Poor girl..."

Her voice faded softly into the night. Arthur awoke to the sound of waves.

He'd had an in-limbo dream.

"Fascinating," he murmured, but his voice was choked with emotion. Oh no. No, no no, not down here, not when Ariadne was there, not when his mind was so vulnerable, in raw subconscious...

Arthur couldn't help it. He leaned over and he cried.

Everything he'd worked to build up over the past few years; that smooth composure which registered no emotion, except for the occasional burst of anger...gone. His heart had long since grown a hard shell around it, but the shell had cracked.

He saw her walking down the beach and tried to shake the memory away, but was no longer in control. This was what happened to Cobb, not him...letting petty emotion control the environment, and influence the subconscious.

How many times had Arthur burned sheets of paper with her name on it, trying to deaden his feelings, to kill his emotion towards her?

He stiffened as she sat beside him on the beach.

"Hello, darling."

He didn't answer.

"What's the matter, bad night?" she said sweetly, running her fingers through his destroyed hair. What he wouldn't do for some gel.

He looked into the sparkling blue eyes and sighed.

These eyes; these beautiful blue eyes were the key to his past. A past that was gone and would never come back. They were the memory he'd locked inside, the truth he'd once known but chosen to forget.

He had to forget this truth. Because if he remembered, he lost all control, and furthermore longed for a past that no longer existed.

And there was no use crying over spilt milk.

He looked away. No, he would not be sucked in as Cobb was. She could not, would not, rule his thoughts, disrupt his jobs, endanger other people's lives.

"When are you going to marry me, Arthur? Are you just too shy to propose?" she asked playfully, but cautiously, with a hint of nervousness in her voice.

He turned to face her, and tried not to think lovingly of her eyes.

"Leave me. Please."

She opened her mouth in slow shock, disbelieving of his words.

"But...Arthur!"

"You don't exist anymore."

"I do exist, I'm right here, aren't-"

"You're dead."

She was silent, and tears spilled over her cheeks.

"I'm not dead to you."

He bit his lip. He couldn't lose it, he had to keep that same control he'd kept for the past seven years or he'd go crazy, back to the state he was in when Cobb first found him. And worst of all...

He'd endanger Ariadne.

"You traitor."

He looked at her with half hearted interest.

"I don't feel anything for her," he lied, but the projection smiled and put a hand on his.

"Yes. You don't love her, you love me," she purred.

"No, no I don't. Katherine...you're dead to me too, you-"

"You're lying and you know it."

He couldn't parry her remark, because she was right.

He'd tried to kill her off, but she always was there. He'd done a good job of forgetting her for a while, but now she was fully back in his consciousness.

For a long time there was nothing except the sound of the waves.

After a while she made a clear statement:

"It doesn't have to be this way, Arthur."

Suddenly he heard creaking and groaning behind him. When he turned around, there was an old Double T Diner with two drive thrus on either side.

He immediately turned back to face the shores of limbo again.

"No, Katherin-"

"Katy, Arthur, Katy! Look, don't you see? We can be the way we were, we can still be together..."

He tried to drown out her words but it was impossible.

"We can forget the accident. You still can love, love me, like you used to, you can be emotional again. You won't need a pad of paper to write everything down, you won't have to contain your feelings anymore...and we can be so happy together, Arthur, the way we were before..."

No, he'd spent too long burying these truths to suddenly unearth them-

"You blame yourself for my death but it wasn't really your fault. You can't blame yourself for the falling car. But even if it was your fault, you can still make amends. Choose me!"

No, no...

"All your life you've regretted that you never married me. But now you can. You can stay, right here, in a world we'll build togeth-"

BLAM!

Arthur turned around sharply.

"Katherine? Katherine!"

His heart plummeted when he saw her lying on the sand. This was the second time he'd seen her dead, helpless, on the ground.

"Katy..."

He put a hand to his mouth. Control, control! He was going insane. Like he had before. Before Cobb found him.

He tried to touch her but two neat tennis shoes stepped in the way.

The small figure towered over him with no compassion.

"She's dead, Arthur. No use crying over spilt milk. She's been dead, and she'll stay dead."

He was too shaken up to understand that this was out of character for Ariadne. She seemed cold, and bitter. That wasn't the architect he knew.

He rocked back and forth, silently, trying to cram all his emotions back in that little box, behind closed doors, and lock them away.

"Emotions are no good Arthur," she murmured, leaning down to meet him.

"You're right. I have- I have to-"

"Hide everything? Yes. Do that. Or your emotions will endanger us all. Forget her, and forget you ever loved her."

Arthur squinted. He said nothing, listening to the waves, and something surfaced in him which he'd always had, since the day he was born;

Suspicion.

He remembered something, now, something Cobb had said long, long ago;

that when the suconscious was conflicted, the projections would sometimes disagree with each other, often presenting different sides of an issue.

And they could be very bipolar projections.

He stared at Ariadne for a moment. Nothing seemed different about her, not at first. She had on the same clothes she'd been wearing the whole trip. A scarf, some jeans, and two neat tennis shoes.

"What about you, Ariadne?" he asked testily.

She looked at him silently for a moment.

"What about me?"

"How can I feel about you?"

She stared at him silently, the moonlight reflecting off ribbons of her hair. Every minute detail was perfect.

The power of the subconscious is amazing.

As she laced her tiny fingers through his hair, he whispered silently in her ear;

"Do you love me?"

Before she could reply, he withdrew his pistol from his belt and shot her, point blank, in the heart.

...

* * *

Ariadne had lain on the floor in dreamless sleep. Night had fallen long since, but crying and afraid of what may appear, she'd just sat on the floor till she'd drifted off.

At the sound of two steps on creaky floorboards, she instantly awoke.

"Ariadne?"

Arthur would normally have been more concerned about her being on the ground, but he had to be cautious. Although he'd shot a projection of her, one couldn't be too careful. He'd shot Katherine before, but she hadn't died. For all he knew, this Ariadne was just another projection.

"Get away from me," Ariadne hissed, trying to sound brave but inwardly cowering. Arthur did not respond for a moment, carefully analyzing her behavior.

She cautiously looked up and said,

"Don't try to take his shape. I know it's you!"

He cocked his head to one side and said calmly,

"I heard a scream so I went looking for you. What is this place?"

She still did not trust his words, and remained motionless.

Arthur's analytic eyes ran over her body. He watched her antics with questioning, then nodded his head in confirmation. He was silent for a moment, and then said softly, but clearly,

"I see you ran into a projection of me."

She turned to face him with a hard coldness he'd never seen before in her eyes.

"And how do you know that?"

"Because I ran into a projection of you," he replied.

The words troubled her, and startled her a little bit as well.

She decided this was really Arthur. He sounded like Arthur, and didn't try to woo her or taunt her, unlike her conflicted subconscious projections of him.

But he had run into a projection...of her? Why her?

"What did you do to her?" she asked quietly.

He answered without hesitation.

"I shot her."

She cringed inwardly, regretting, always regretting.

"Arthur...I'm so sorry, I didn't want to-"

"I was going to kick your ass for that. But it's alright. You had to. Though...you couldn't have done it a little less painfully?"

She smiled, relaxing a bit as she sat up. Yes, this was good old Arthur.

"It isn't more elegant than shooting you in the head?"

"Frankly, no," he smirked.

They laughed a little, softly, for a moment, then were silent. It was eerie in the house, and both felt an increasing discomfort with their surroundings. Arthur stood up and turned the lamp on, filling the room with a dim light.

"Did you find Cobb?" he asked her. She shook her head.

"No. But I know now...he's lost track of reality. He's lost his grasp on it."

"How do you know?"

She pointed, numbly, to the partially opened safe. He stepped towards it, being careful not to step on the glass. Ariadne slumped a little, thinking of Arthur's careful mind and how knew better than to step on the shattered shards, unlike her.

He opened the safe and said nothing for a moment.

"Mal's totem?" he asked, after a bit of silence.

There was always a silence after Arthur saw something happen. He needed time to analyze, to observe.

"Not just Mal's," she murmured.

He turned around, brow wrinkled in question.

"What do you mean?"

Ariadne blinked for a moment.

"You didn't know? That's Cobb's totem too. He used it after she died."

He shook his head and shut the safe.

"Damn," he muttered.

She looked up inquisitively.

"You were right...Cobb spent a lot of time doing things he said not to do..."

Arthur smiled grimly for a second, and had a far away look on his face.

"Yes, Cobb had a habit of that. That's why he was the best. He was never afraid to take risks, to try something new, but he was smart about it, unlike that British idiot."

He shook his head and sighed, the smile fading.

"But not all gambles turn out for the better, I suppose. Especially when it's your own mind you're gambling. To use somebody else's totem...especially Mal's..."

He shook his head again.

"It's not a wonder it doesn't work. She knew its secret. And now that she's a part of him..."

He sat down on a rickety old chair and folded his hands. He stayed there for nearly a minute, with his eyes closed, thinking. Ariadne, to her own shame, couldn't really focus on Cobb but instead ran her eyes over every part of Arthur.

She had never really had an opportunity to do so. The Point Man was always watching, always looking, always observing. Whenever she tried to watch him, on a bus or on the plane or in the workshop, he would always make eye contact and she'd be forced to look away. He was always keeping tabs on everything, including her.

But now his eyes were closed, and she was free for a short moment to observe him.

His hair was damp and strands of it were mopped in front of his eyes. His vest looked a bit stained from the water, but his tie remained in place and he still looked sharp.

Arthur had such a nice face, she noted.

His eyes finally opened, slowly, and Ariadne stared into their darkness.

"I think we should go back," he said solemnly. Ariande furrowed her eyebrows, confused.

"But what about Cobb?"

He shook his head.

"Even if we could find him, he's probably having a heyday with Mal. And now that his now that limbo is his reality...he won't want to leave her."

Ariadne shook her head.

"Limbo isn't his reality. If it were, the totem would be on its side. You do know how the totem works..."

Arthur nodded. "He told me after she died."

"The totem is split in half. I think that means he just can't tell the difference..."

She gulped as she thought of her own totem, which now lay in crumbled pieces. She had no idea what to make of that.

"And Mal..." she muttered silently, "is dead."

Arthur closed his eyes and tried not to think of Katherine as he murmured, "Not to Cobb, she isn't."

Ariadne inhaled slowly and nodded, heart pounding.

"Look...Arthur, I think it's time I told you... about Cobb."

He faced her curiously, with an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"So now you're going to tell me?"

She looked at the floor in guilt.

"There wasn't time," she said uncertainly. "By the time I knew anything concrete about him, it was time for the job. And when I went deeper with him in the levels...well, I found out more."

He didn't respond. She took his silence as an opportunity and hastily recounted the story of Cobb, and how he was responsible for the idea that killed his wife. How his guilt had defined her, and finally how the gunshot had killed her. She was now dead, even to Cobb. He lived for his children now...or so Ariadne hoped.

Arthur leaned back in the chair and nodded silently, digesting what he had just heard. She bit her lip in anxiety. There was something even more important she had to tell him.

"So Mal is dead. Cobb just lost his grip on what is real," Arthur stated.

Ariadne nodded.

He sighed and mumbled, " We have to find him then. There may still be a way to restore his sanity."

He fumbled with his die, nervously, not looking forward to what came next, though outwardly he appeared completely calm.

Cobb had endangered the whole team by doing this job with his emotions on the loose. He couldn't do the same thing.

Not to Ariadne.

So he was going to have to confess.

But before he could say anything, she whispered,

"Arthur...there's something you should know about me."

He looked into her eyes and was surprised to find a look of anxiousness in them as well. She was squeezing her small, white hands tightly, something she always did when she was nervous.

"Cobb put all of us at risk when he went under. That's why I demanded to go with you on the job. The team needed somebody who understood what he was going through."

Arthur bit his lip...in his mind. He never exhibited outward appearances of emotion. To Ariadne, he seemed the same as he'd always been. She had no idea that internally he was wrestling with himself, because his face was stone, his demeanor completely normal, and his behavior composed.

But Arthur was indeed nervous; It was as if she was reading his mind with her words about Cobb and how he'd put the team at risk.

"So," she continued uneasily, "I think I need to tell you that I'm putting you in danger as well."

Arthur blinked.

"I have someone in my past...and even though I killed him, there's no guarantee he won't show up again."

...

* * *

It was a late night in August, and Ariadne sat outside her window, smoking a cigarette. There was a roof overhang on her house, one she could climb onto, and that's where she went when she was stressed.

Or pissed.

Damn her parents. Couldn't they loosen up a bit? She was sixteen for crying out loud, and they treated her like she was four. Why the hell did they have problems with who she hung out with? Her friends were good people.

She smiled as she saw a mustang pull up to the front curb, with blaring music coming from the speakers, and her friends piled up inside. They'd been hesitant about befriending Ariadne at first; she seemed like a boring bookworm. Soon however, they came to appreciate her sincerity, her honesty, and her good sense of humor. Moreover, she made the people around her feel good about themselves; so if she liked to stay home and build architecture once in a while, or write up a story, that was chill.

Ariadne truly amazed everyone she knew with her personality and her attractive face. Everyone, that was, except her parents. She was about to call out to her friends when she heard the booming voice of her father and cringed.

"Get out of here, and don't go messing with my daughter! She's not going anywhere with you hoods!"

With that he slammed the door.

Ariadne nearly screamed in rage. Who did her father think he was?

Not going anywhere with them. She'd see about that.

In truth it was Austin Mchalain her father was worried about. The boy had a horrible reputation and was known to be loose with women, but Ariadne didn't care.

The guy was extremely hot, and more importantly...he was interested.

She hopped off the roof and tried to soothe her friends' pulsing nerves, their egos hurt by her father's remarks.

Ariadne had always believed in true love. Ever since she was small, maybe ten or eleven years old, she'd been writing stories, sometimes fanfiction, about it. She'd believed in pure, sincere things; that someday she could and would find a man with the key to her heart, a man who understood her and loved her just the way she was.

But it could get lonely often. She'd borne so many heartaches all alone, desperately wishing for that somebody who would pat her head softly, tell her he loved her, and understand. But that person never came.

Ariadne hadn't really become attractive until recently...

This new group of teens she called friends were different than her preppy private school piers. They were easy going, laughed frequently, and didn't seem to care about much.

It was a new kind of freedom for Ariadne.

She didn't realize how she was slipping farther and farther down a slippery slope.

Perhaps she was desperate, but she didn't want to sound that way. Austin didn't know her, or understand her, but she didn't seem to care much anymore. He took interest in her, and that was enough, because nobody seemed to take interest in her, and she was worried love might never come. His beautiful eyes, hair, face...they were such a catch, any girl would be jealous...so slowly she lost her vision of 'true' love and longed for him, the nearest substitute.

They arrived at the park, their favorite hangout, soon after. Some of the girls brought out beer and their guys made small talk, cigarettes lit.

She stood and stared at the moon for a moment, wondering what awaited her at home. Her father would never let her do anything again.

Before she could get lost any further in thought, she heard a voice from behind.

"Whatcha looking at, baby?"

She turned her head back slowly to look at Austin.

"Baby?"

He smiled and put his arms around her waist.

"I've been meaning to tell you for some time, now, kid...you're face is too beautiful for me to resist."

Beautiful. Somebody had actually called her beautiful.

Before she knew it, he was kissing her. Her first kiss.

Ariadne had always imagined this moment with grandeur. Her man would have just confessed his love, or vice versa, and then would gently kiss her and make her faint.

But this wasn't like that all.

The confession had been short, and this kiss was rough, almost threatening. His breath smelled horribly of alcohol.

"Austin-" she breathed, but he silenced her with his lips and slammed her against a picnic table.

"You're hurting me-" she tried, but he didn't care, and started to feel up her shirt. Her eyes widened with realization at what was happening and she tried to scream, but he wouldn't let her. Suddenly she was very afraid, and tears rolled down her eyes.

"Hey, Austin, cool it man, she doesn't want to..."

He ignored Ryan's protest. The girls began to get uncomfortable.

"Hey...c'mon, not so rough..."

"She isn't used to it-"

Suddenly there was a screeching of tires and Ariadne's father came running out, screaming.

"Get your filthy hands off my daughter!"

Before she knew it there was a gunshot.

Then sirens. And screaming.

And her father, still, on the grass.

...

* * *

Ariadne's hands were red from her wringing them by this point.

Arthur hadn't moved from the chair, and was digesting information again, but was troubled. She was very brave not to cry. The story had taken all of her strength to tell.

He could see that she wanted to speak, but didn't because she was worried she'd burst into tears. He knew because he'd been the same not too long ago.

He pondered what to say for a moment; it had been a long time since he'd comforted. He had been good at it, they'd said. But it was something that had gone with love, and all other emotion, buried deep within himself...his subconscious.

He supposed it wouldn't hurt to unearth the long forgotten skill, and said quietly to Ariadne,

"Come here."

That was all it took. That, and a small gesture of open arms.

She held him and cried, cried like she never had before, and he gently patted her back. Ariadne felt humiliated to stand before Arthur and expose herself like this, but he'd made it easy, somehow, by opening his arms to her. She'd expected him to be stiff and awkward in his comforting. He'd never shown any kind of emotion, and though that was part of his charm, she'd suspected he wouldn't understand her pain, and wouldn't be so reassuring. But his arms were firm, his voice soothing. He had put his chin over her head and was patting her hair, like a father comforting a broken hearted child, and was whispering a gentle, "Shhh...shhh..." in her ear.

Ariadne remembered her first punishment, administered by her father, and how he'd comforted her afterward and said he'd had to do it, because he loved her. Strangely, his memory didn't bring as much pain now.

How amazing that Arthur comforted her, the same way her father once had, so long ago, but even more tenderly.

She leaned back and looked into his eyes, tears still running down her own.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. Please don't feel sorry for me. I can stand anything but pity."

Arthur smiled sorrowfully. He wasn't sure if he could love...he needed to talk to Ariadne about that, about his past, the way she just had spoken of hers. But if he could love...if it was feasible...then this was what he loved about her.

She was so independent, so proud, that she couldn't stand to be felt sorry for. She'd been carrying her pain all alone, the guilt of what she'd done, and was very sorry for her actions.

Arthur could relate to that.

But unbeknownst to him was another thing Ariadne had hidden; the details of her encounter with Austin's projection. And her projection of himself. He'd thought about asking, but decided against it.

There was a void in Ariadne's heart, a place where only somebody she loved could fill.

But she was afraid, afraid that if she let somebody in, she'd destroy them, hurt them, shock them, the way she'd done her parents, the only people who'd ever truly loved her.

But Arthur didn't know that. Not yet.

He only knew she bore a burden she'd never unveiled, and despite how sorry she was, the past could not be reversed. And he knew what that was like.

"No, I don't feel sympathy for you, Ariadne," he said.

She didn't know how to respond to that, but he quickly added, "I feel empathy for you."

She looked at him with a question in her eyes. He sighed and said,

"You're not the only one with a rampant projection in here," and began to tell the tale he'd sworn to forget.

...

It was an early night in August. Arthur was twenty.

Once upon a time, he'd had the perfect life.

Things were going well in college, he'd met the girl of his dreams, he had wonderful, amazing friends, and he'd moved up in the world of legal extraction.

Plus, tonight was the night. The night he would ask Katy to marry him.

His blue Camaro sped off into the night, down a local road with a speed limit of 25 mph. He was going 50. He had to hurry and get Katy home, because she had a job interview in the morning, or so she said. Arthur had a feeling she'd be lingering after the events of tonight.

His heart racing, he looked to the stars and thanked God silently for his picture perfect life, as the girl he loved cuddled up beside him.

That's when the car came.

It didn't come from behind him, from his side, or the opposite direction.

It came from above.

They had been passing a parking garage, and for some unspoken reason, a car had flung off the guardrail at exactly that moment and fallen to earth.

The last thing he remembered was the EMS team pulling them out of the car, sirens blaring, and Katy on the ground.

Dead.

He woke up in the hospital a new man. His grades declined. He became increasingly simple minded. His friends drifted. And worst of all, he would have random outbreaks of crying, raging anger, and other runaway emotions that left others around him confused and upset.

His mother hired a therapist, but it didn't work. Eventually he found that the only thing that helped was a pad of paper. He had to write everything he was going to do down in it, and do it. Eventually he flunked out of school and became a janitor.

Things were rock bottom for a while. No, that's an understatement.

Sometimes he would find himself crying, all alone, after the shop he worked at closed, weeping over his broom handle.

Then Cobb came.

Arthur watched him with unsteady eyes as Cobb sipped a Coke. They talked over dinner, and Cobb said slowly,

"I heard you're one of the best point men around."

"I was," Arthur mumbled miserably.

"Well what happened?" Cobb asked.

Arthur was silent, and looked at the floor. He felt another crying fit coming on.

Cobb put his salad fork down.

"Do you remember anything about extraction?"

"Some," Arthur admitted.

"Do you remember the power of facing your own subconscious? And telling it who is master?"

Arthur furled his brow. The reason he didn't remember was because it was a new idea of Cobb's, called Inception.

Self-Inception. Going deep into your own subconscious and changing thoughts or ideas you already had into ones you wanted.

They were interrupted by the sound of clicking high heels, which approached the booth.

A beautiful, mid sized woman smiled at Cobb and kissed him on the cheek.

"Dom, Phillipa is done with her haircut. Do you mind if I take her home? I need to watch James, and I don't like this new babysitter. Oh, hello. Who are you?"

Arthur had barely managed to mutter,

"Arthur. Pleased to meet you..."

Cobb had smiled and said, "This is my wife, Mal. Go ahead, sweetheart, I'll be home in an hour or two."

She walked away, content, and Arthur put his head in between his hands. That had been all he wanted with Katherine.

Cobb placed a hand on his arm and said gently,

"Look, I heard what happened to you. And I can help you."

Three days later, they stood at the Double T Diner, his and Katy's favorite restaurant, in his dream.

She was sitting at their favorite booth, waiting.

"Go on," Cobb had muttered in his ear.

Arthur held the gun with trembling fingers. He tried to look at her, but he couldn't do it. He aimed, clicked, looked away, and fired.

But he hadn't seen her die.

Later her coffin was rolled out, a cheap pine coffin.

And they buried it. Along with his pad of paper. They buried it.

After that, Arthur was never the same, and his relatives simply stood back in awe.

He never complained, or cried, or truly raged ever again. He became stoic, utterly practical, and very quiet.

His old friends tried to return, now that he was sane, but found that things weren't like they used to be. Arthur had changed.

So slowly, over time, Cobb became his only friend.

And the tables began to turn; soon it was Arthur keeping Cobb's emotional needs in check.

...

* * *

Ariadne was suprisingly quiet. Arthur had put his head in his hands.

She had forgotten her friends from long ago, temporarily. One of the things that had really attracted those friends (with the exception of Austin) and really all the people in her life, including Cobb, was her ability to understand people and give them advice.

"It wasn't your fault, Arthur."

She instantly regretted her words. She knew that wouldn't help.

So she murmured instead,

"You never buried Katherine."

Arthur looked up slowly. Unlike Ariadne, he'd told her most of his story, including his encounter with Katy's projection and...his projection of her. With the small exception of the part where he'd whispered, "Do you love me?" in her ear.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You buried your emotions in the coffin. You looked away when you shot her, so she never really died. I guess your emotions didn't either. You just crammed them both in a box, and tried to forget."

She walked to the window and out onto the recreated street, and mumbled, softly,

"A truth you once knew, but chose to forget."

He decided at that moment she was incredible.

And she decided at that moment she loved him.

Because he understood her. And he cared. And he was everything she had ever wanted in a man. Not some cheap substitute like Austin.

But still, there was a doubt in her mind. She couldn't tell him she loved him; if she truly loved him, she couldn't hurt him.

Arthur mumbled indistinctly, "It was the only way I could survive. To keep doing what I do. I had to forget all my emotion."

She turned around to face him.

"You needed to bury Katherine, and the past that was associated with her, because that past will never come back. But your emotions...Arthur, that's putting a lid on something that can't be contained."

He looked back at his hands. He couldn't...but he did.

A hesitant tear fell. There was no change in his facial expression. Just a tear.

"Cobb's guilt defined Mal. It's not really guilt that defines Katherine...it's a conflict. Maybe regret, that you didn't marry her. You've been forgetting what's it's like to love, to be sad...to be happy..."

She knelt down to meet his eyes and held his hand.

"And you shouldn't have to do that. Or she'll just keep coming back. Until you let it out she'll keep haunting you."

He nodded hesitantly, tears still falling.

She was suprised at the calmness in his voice when he spoke. Despite the tears, it did not shake.

"And what about you, Ariadne? What defines this Austin?"

She looked down.

"Guilt..." she lied. That was only one half of it.

"And what are you going to do about it?"

She tried to smile, and said between her own tears,

"It's done. I shot him. And now...now that I've told you...it's gone. What's done is done. And I can move on."

She meant it, and so did he. They embraced each other, deep within the recesses of limbo, and cried together, Arthur very quietly with nothing but tears, and Ariadne with vehemence and sobbing.

They would be okay. Together. They'd find Cobb.

But there was still a critical fact that they had hidden from one another.

And their subconsciouses were about to reroute to another problem; a problem they both shared but were hiding from each other.

...

(AN- Andddd I think y'all know what their problem is. *GASP* they love each other but they won't tell. Sorry it's so slow and there isn't much fluff. I've never been a good fluff writer. It comes out cheesy. This chapter was soooo OOC, sorry. The next chapter will be WAY more IC. Anyways, I just wanted to write something better than-Job is over, so happy, kissy kiss, they get married, Buenos Aires, la de da de da. That's kinda all I've been seeing and I think love should be deeper than that.

Sorry for all the similarities between Cobb's and Arthur's story. But Cobb and Arthur handled their situations much differently. Cobb kept Mal alive, while Arthur just tried to hide all emotion to get on with life.

Arthur was just so suave in the movie, all Mr. Secret Agent Man with the big gun and the pressed shirts, vests, ties, and gelled hair( that's why he was hot) that he seemed pretty emotionless. And giving him loving character is totally OOC unless you figure out some reason for him being emotionless, and then showing a vulnerable heart underneath.

There ya go, a useless explanation you cared nothing about.

Go and review people. It's how you tell me you love me.

More, um, not 'fluff,' but maybe 'love?' next chapter...the confessions, kisses, and all that bullcrap you people love...okay that I love too, so long as it isn't fake. ;D)


	4. Chapter 4

(Oh my goodness so sorry. I promised an update a long time ago. I have the whole story I was just not able to get to a computer for a longgggg time, so sorry about that. Enjoy.)

Ariadne woke to rays of sun piercing through the bedroom window. She yawned and stretched a little. It took a second for her to recall where she was, and when she did, she was almost startled.  
She was in Arthur's arms.  
Suprisingly, as they occupied the room for a longer period of time, their imaginations began to work and soon the place appeared new. The window was intact now, and all the furniture was free of dust.  
She remembered that Arthur had found a rocking chair in the corner, and they'd cried a little in it, him holding her in his arms. Arthur cried like no person she'd ever seen; he was silent, and stoic, without a single change in facial expression or sob from his throat.  
She had told him that it was okay to cry all-out and that he didn't have to retain the expression, and he replied by saying that was just the way he cried. But when she leaned on his chest and he put his head in her hair, she felt soft reverberations from his body, and realized that he was indeed sobbing, but quietly, and he refused to do so where she could see.  
That was just part of who Arthur was, she realized. He refused to show much weakness, for fear he would break. And that was okay. So long as he let out at least a little.  
Ariadne realized that she'd fallen asleep in his arms, and that now it was morning. She felt much better after the night's events; she'd finally found a person who understood her pain, and best of all, that person was Arthur.  
She'd learned more about his past and problems and felt that she could support him as well in his time of need. They understood each other's pain because they'd both experienced it.  
So now, as the light shined warmly through the window panes, Ariadne couldn't help but smile at her luck, and at Arthur's handsome face. He looked so peaceful asleep, his face relaxed.  
She became very conscious of him and his body. His stomach and chest were quite firm, and she suspected that he was a man very much in shape. Her fingers were laced around his tie, a Donald Trump tie at that, and his clothes felt genuinely expensive. He just had a certain sense of class that was very attractive.  
Ariadne looked over his face lovingly, thanking God for this rare opportunity to observe him.  
Yes, how good that felt, to be in love. After all these years, she was finally falling in love again.  
She tucked her chin into his chest, snuggling against the fabric of his oxford shirt, when his eyes slowly opened. Arthur, unlike Ariadne, quickly assessed the situation with his analytical mind. He stiffened a little and stretched ever so slightly, then put his arms loosely on Ariadne's waist.  
"Good morning," he muttered.  
"Good morning," she replied, trying to hide the joy in her voice. She may have been in love, but she couldn't tell him that. And even if she did, there was probably no way Arthur loved her back.  
She felt like a schoolgirl again with a crush on an unattainable guy.  
Arthur noted how tiny she was, and enjoyed having her lie there. He'd stayed awake long after Ariadne had fallen asleep the previous night, and had admired her curly hair, her beautiful face, and her cute little snores.  
It felt wonderful to let out all that pent up emotion, but he kept it on a short leash. Somehow Katherine had faded into a beautiful thing of the past, a person he cherished but no longer felt anything for.  
He felt an old emotion rise when he stared at Ariadne, but he would not be hasty, nor would he let his feelings run rampant. He would keep that cool composure he'd always had, but be a bit more lenient.  
He decided that they'd better find Cobb quickly before his feelings aroused his subconscious. He suspected Ariadne was interested in him, but he couldn't be sure. Better to wait and work things out in reality.  
He pondered how to ask Ariadne to get up so that they could work before his mind got carried away, but before he could say anything, she got up by herself. She was a lot like him in a way; she got down to business and downplayed distraction.  
Arthur felt, unwillingly, even more admiration for her rising up inside of him.  
She fixed her hair in the mirror and fumbled with her scarf while speaking.  
"So what's our next move?"  
Arthur straightened his tie and imagined up some gel, and a comb. Both items instantly appeared.  
"Find Cobb, get out," he replied. "Where do you think he'll be?"  
Ariadne thought about this for a moment.  
"He'll be where his kids are, so I assume his house on the beach where they live now."  
"What about his apartment?" asked Arthur. She shook her head.  
"I already checked there. Cobb combined his house with his apartment because he and Mal loved both types of homes...I think his subconscious would recreate a place similar to the home his kids have in real life right now, but somewhere else, away from Mal. Do you know what the outside looks like? I've only been inside."  
Arthur nodded.  
"Been there several times on holiday. Brought the kids stuff. It would make sense that it's on the shore, so we should check the beach."  
Ariadne nodded hesitantly, but something troubled her.  
"Arthur...the longer these memories are here, the harder it is for Cobb to grasp what's real and what isn't. Maybe...maybe we should destroy all of these buildings."  
Arthur thought about it for a moment.  
"Maybe. But we can't have Cobb die, and he may be in one of them."  
"Why not? He'd awake in reality."  
Arthur shook his head.  
"But he wouldn't know it. We need to show him that this isn't real, so that when he wakes up he won't be confused. If his mind isn't already lost."  
There was a pause, and Arthur looked to the safe.  
"What about the totem?" he asked. "Do you think he needs it?"  
Ariadne shook her head.  
"Leave it. It's Mal's, and he needs one for himself."  
Arthur narrowed his gaze, something he always did when he was unsure of something.  
"Maybe..." he muttered. "This is a safe, so it must be a secure place in his mind...maybe if we just set the totem spinning..." he said, reaching for the lock.  
"Don't!" shouted Ariadne, leaping from the seat she'd taken on the bed. Arthur put his hands up.  
"What?" he asked.  
She sighed with relief.  
"I told you Cobb planted the idea that Mal's world wasn't real in her head, and if we do that-"  
"Oohhh..." he said, understanding. She nodded, confirming his suspicions.  
They straigtened up a little more, and then headed out onto the recreated street.

It took them four hours to find it.  
First they'd had to walk across a street in Paris. When they arrived at Cobb's favorite pastry shop, Ariadne beckoned Arthur to the side of the street.  
"There's a backdoor in the shop. We can take a shortcut through it."  
He nodded.  
"You've been here before?" he asked.  
"Yeah. Best discount bakery and pizzeria in Paris...It's Italian."  
Arthur shook his head and smiled faintly at her.  
When they walked in, the bakery was full of customers, chatting. The baker, who was tossing a pizza crust up in the air, called out to them in a friendly tone.  
"Ciao Bella, my friends, come in, have a seat!"  
They were startled to see projections. The streets of limbo had been completely empty until now, except for the projections of Austin and Katy, as well as Arthur's and Ariadne's counterpart projections.  
The chef laughed loudly and added, "Sit down! Valentine's Special today, dinner for two at a discount!"  
Ariadne's heart nearly stopped.  
"Valentines..." she murmured. It was nowhere near February.  
Arthur's eyes scanned the room, and his analysis made him nervous.  
The room was full of couples, and all the tables were for two. They all had smiles on their faces, laughing, wining and dining, kissing, embracing...  
Ariadne hadn't failed to notice them either. She gulped nervously and grabbed Arthur's hand.  
"Come on, let's go...the backdoor is just over there."  
They both were glad to be heading out. Ariadne was afraid her subconscious was putting the projections there, and Arthur was worried that it was his subconscious. It occurred to neither of them that the projections could belong to the other.  
Ariadne didn't want Arthur to find out.  
Arthur didn't want to be distracted by his feelings, but that was becoming increasingly difficult.  
When they reached the backdoor, the chef stepped in front of it and folded his arms.  
"Shortcut, eh? Do you not see the sign? For customers only!"  
The man was large, and fat, with cutlery in his hands. Ariadne's mind raced for an excuse but Arthur said cooly,  
"Okay. We'll have a drink."  
He quickly led her to the barstools nearest to the door, and the chef smiled and returned to the kitchen.  
The shop was much different the bar of Ariadne's dream. The atmosphere was light and airy, and there were pastries in the glass in front of the bar counter instead of liquors. The tinkling of wine glasses felt vaguely cheery.  
"What are you doing, Arthur?" she whispered.  
"We can't afford to die now. We're not in anybody's mind in particular, so they probably won't attack, but you can't be too certain," he replied, scanning the projections and keeping an eye on them.  
Ariadne was glad for another opportunity to be with him, but became nervous quickly when all the sounds stopped. Every projection began to stare, and she had a strong feeling of  
Deja Vu.  
Arthur turned to her quickly.  
"Kiss me," he said, with no rise or fall in his voice.  
"What?" she said, flustered. She was about to protest with, 'That didn't work last time' but decided against it. This might be her only opportunity to kiss him without any pretenses.  
Arthur kissed exactly the way she expected him to. She hadn't really been able to notice the first time because she had been distracted by the situation.  
He kissed cooly, but not coldly. There was warmth in it, but no exceding passion. Composed, as always. But not poor or boring.  
The projections all turned around, back to their dinners and wines, and the staff continued to work. Arthur drew back a few inches and turned his head to watch them. She watched his eyes roll over the entire crowd, and finally rest when they met her own. He paused for a moment, and then caught her completely off guard when he came back for a second.  
The kiss was nearly the same, but a bit warmer and he placed a hand on her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She felt her heart jump in both surprise and excitement. What was he doing?  
On his third attempt she nearly melted and gave in. Now he was more insistent, more passionate, pressing a bit deeper, and she decided that maybe he loved her too, and that this was his way of telling her. But before she could respond with her body language, he drew away, and sat upright in his stool. He ordered a drink from the chef, and she could do nothing but sit, flustered.  
"Damn my emotions," thought Arthur. The first and second exchanges had been fine, but the third one had gone too far.  
He couldn't get distracted with Cobb's life on the line. Or with Ariadne's...these projections probably wouldn't have shown up had he not been thinking of her. They needed to move quickly.  
Ariadne had been calm on the first, shocked on the second, and had had no time to react on the third, so he wasn't sure if she was interested, though his suspicion was increasing.  
He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear softly,  
"That was what they wanted."  
He left it as his line for later, a smooth way of telling her he was interested. That his subconscious wanted romance.  
But she took it the opposite way. She thought these were her projections, and that now he knew her secret.  
For once she resented his stoic face.  
His expressionless expressions had always been enticing to her, charming and secretive; but now she had no idea if he was glad or upset about her love for him. That made her nervous.  
He'd played with her a little on the kisses, but she couldn't be sure...She tried not to wring her hands and hoped that Cobb would show up soon.

After a quick drink, they proceeded out the back door. Ariadne blushed and murmured,  
"Sorry. It would have been faster to go the long way."  
Arthur waved a hand.  
"No problem. It was...interesting," he said, curving his voice just a little and smiling at her.  
"Damn you, Arthur," he thought grumpily. "Can't you wait to flirt until you're awake?"  
Keeping his emotions completely suppressed had had its advantages before. He felt like Spock, torn between logic and stupid, insistent, emotion.  
When they finally came to the beach, it took them nearly three hours to scour the shoreline before they reached success.  
Up on a sandy hill was the house Cobb lived in with his children, and on the beach were unfinished, primitive sandcastles.  
Arthur nodded. "This is it," he said, and Ariadne admired the architecture of the house. Cobb...and Mal...had good taste. She would have liked to live there herself.  
When they went in through the backdoor, Ariadne was suprised to find nothing on the inside but a simple pine floor, and an elevator box. She raised an eyebrow.  
"What's with the inside?" she murmured.  
Arthur examined the elevator and stepped inside. He looked over the buttons and beckoned for her to join him.  
"Is this the elevator you went in with Cobb?" he asked.  
She nodded, but stared confuzedly at the buttons.  
Arthur was very good at reading emotions as well as hiding them, and saw her expression.  
"What's wrong?" he asked.  
She shook her head slightly and muttered,  
"Nothing...It's just that there are only three buttons."  
"Is there something strange about that?"  
She paused a moment.  
"I don't know...it's just that there were more before. At least five or six levels and the basement.  
Arthur pondered this a moment, then shrugged.  
"One way to find out."  
He pressed the number one.

The elevator descended slowly, and Ariadne hated the suspense. What were they going to find on these levels? More of Cobb's painful memories?  
When finally arrived on the first floor, which appeared to be a condominium, she stepped into the appartment hesitantly, but Arthur stayed back.  
She turned to look at him.  
"You coming?" she asked.  
He looked around the room silently, and for the first time, she thought she detected nervousness in his gaze. He didn't look any different; she just had a dim feeling she was beginning to understand him well enough to know what he was thinking. Approximately.  
He moved slowly out of the elevator and said softly,  
"Let's not. I doubt Cobb will be here..."  
She raised an eyebrow.  
"Arthur, we haven't even searched the apartment yet. We can't just go."  
He wanted to protest, but he knew he couldn't. Not without giving something away. Ariadne began to search the room.  
Arthur moved slowly through the master bedroom, and opened the dresser drawers. He found his favorite hair gel, several ties, and preferred books. The bathroom contained both men and women's toiletries.  
Crap.  
He quickly searched the place for projections, bumping past Ariadne through the kitchen and into a small living room. Finding none, he sighed in relief; Ariadne would never suspect anything. He heard her call out,  
"Where is this place?"  
Arthur thought, 'Seattle,' but said, "Not sure."  
"Oh wait, never mind...we must be in Washington," she called from the kitchen. The kitchen had a huge bay window that overlooked the city, and she could see the space needle.  
It really was the most beautiful room in the house. Oddly, there were mirrors on all the cabinets, and she could see herself from every angle. She observed her reflection and watched another figure step into the frame. Arthur had his jacket slung over one shoulder.  
"He's not here. Let's go," he said.  
"There's no way to search the other floors?"  
"No. The elevator is where the apartment door should be."  
Thank God, thought Arthur.  
"Alright," she murmured, unsatisfied. What was this place? And more importantly, what was this place to Cobb?  
Arthur headed out to the bedroom and she trailed behind, when she thought she heard something. Laughter? What was it?  
She turned around sharply and stared at the kitchen. It was empty, but something caught her eye...  
The mirrors.  
She saw the back of a black vest and a head of dark, gelled hair. There was no mistaking who it was. He approached the coffee pot and took a cup. How strange; the room was empty, but she was seeing the reflection of something that wasn't there.  
The reflection traveled to the table, where a woman in a bathrobe sat in a chair, reading a newspaper. He handed her the coffee and wrapped his arms around her neck, burying his face in her hair and kissing her cheek.  
Ariadne's heart became stone cold, as only one thought entered her head; Katherine.  
She turned painfully to the mirror on the opposite wall, so she could see their faces. She'd been observing their backsides before.  
The woman's head was bent, for she was doubling over in laughter at something Arthur had whispered in her ear. And when she lifted it, to meet his gaze, Ariadne was astounded to be staring at her own reflection.  
"Ariadne?" she heard a voice from behind her say.  
She jumped and turned to face the real Arthur.  
"What's going on?" he asked.  
She just blinked a moment, shocked at what she had just seen.  
"N-Nothing," she mumbled.  
He didn't seem convinced.  
"You alright?"  
"Yeah."  
"You sure?"  
She nodded shakily and followed him to the elevator. When he got inside, she paused just outside of the box and asked softly,  
"Arthur, what is this place?"  
He paused.  
"An apartment."  
"No, what's it to you?"  
He didn't answer.  
"This place was created from your subconscious. Is it a place of the past?"  
He paused again, then shook his head.  
"How did you know?"  
"I have my ways."  
He just shook his head again and mumbled, "You really are amazing." Her heart jumped a little. He'd said the words exactly the same way as the Arthur of her bar dream.  
He looked into her eyes and said,  
"Always wanted to live in Seattle. When I became an extractor, I realized that I could never live in one place. So I decided I wanted a condo here."  
"Does it really exist?" she asked.  
"No,"he lied.  
He didn't tell her he dreamed of a home he could share here since he was young, and that he'd found this apartment, but refused to buy it until he found a wife. The suite was too lonely and large for just one. When Katherine had died, he'd forever given up hope on buying it; yet here it was.  
He didn't mention these things because he was worried; if Ariadne had found a picture of Katherine or...herself, she would understand the purpose of this place. But his efforts were in vain; she understood perfectly well.  
Arthur wanted to share his life with her. They understood each other.  
As the elevator dropped to level two, Ariadne felt her heart sink as well. She couldn't hurt Arthur like she had her father...surely with her selfishness, if he asked her to be with him, she would hurt him. Biting her lips, she ran her mind over a tough decision.

Ariadne almost screamed when she saw the second level.  
It was a bar.  
She could feel her face turn bright crimson, and she was surprised to see Arthur kneel to the ground and not get out.  
"Do a reality check," he commanded, and rolled his die on the ground.  
She didn't move. When he finished, he looked at her and asked,  
"Well?"  
She shook her head.  
"I can't."  
"Why not?"  
"I...I lost my totem."  
He squinted.  
"How?"  
She was about to answer when her eyes widened in horror. He turned around to see what she was looking at and was met with the nasty grin of Austin McHalain.  
"Hello, Ariadne."  
"Get away from me!"  
"Remember this?" he asked cruelly, extending his hand, which held the broken pieces of her totem.  
Arthur got his gun ready but was careful to observe the projection first. Ariadne shrank behind him.  
"He's your knight in shining armor?" Austin laughed. "Well don't forget what you did to the last one," he said, throwing the pieces on the floor.  
He looked Arthur straight in the eye. Never had Arthur seen eyes so cold, so hard, so real, in a projection. The evil blonde haired figure said straight to his face, boldly and clearly,  
"If you try to make her half your whole, and you be her knight, she'll tear you to shreds."  
The words were barely out of his mouth when Arthur said, "Wrong," put the pistol to his head, and shot him.  
As the figure crumpled on the floor, Arthur leaned down, picked up the fragmented totem, and whispered in his ear, "She didn't do this to it. You did."  
He then stood up, kicked the body out of the elevator, and shut the door.  
After his customary pause, he turned to face the bewildered Ariadne.  
"Cobb won't be here, will he?"  
She shook her head, still breathing heavily. He looked into space for a moment.  
"A knight, Ariadne? What happened to the bishop?"  
She thought about her answer carefully.  
"I'm a believer in true love."  
The answer would have thrown most people off, but she had a feeling, as he stared into her eyes, that he understood.  
He pressed the Basement level button.  
Having regained some of her senses, Ariadne whispered,  
"How'd you know he broke it, and not me?"  
He looked at her and smiled almost mischeviously.  
"I have my ways."  
The elevator hit the bottom, but he held the door closed.  
"Tell me. Why didn't you kill him? You told me you shot him."  
She shivered with the memory. "I did, but it did nothing. It just...went through him, I guess."  
He pulled the pistol from her belt and examined it.  
"Somebody forgot to load this thing."  
There was silence for a moment.  
And then hysterical laughter. They laughed together at her folly, as the doors rolled open to gentle sunshine through large glass windows.  
They had arrived at Cobb's home, where his children lived.  
After a quick search, they realized that nobody was home and that Cobb must have been on the beach.  
Ariadne headed toward the veranda, but Arthur held her back and beckoned her towards a couch. A bit confused, she took a seat beside him.  
"What is it?" she asked. He paused for a moment, as always, and replied,  
"I think we need to talk some things out."  
"Like what?"  
He thought about his answer carefully.  
"Ariadne...whenever we enter a place as vulnerable as this, with our subconscious completely exposed...we can put each other in danger. Going to limbo is always a risk."  
Ariadne looked at her hands.  
"Look, I'm sorry about Austin-"  
"Don't be. All I'm saying is that our feelings can endanger each other...So...let's talk about them."  
"Didn't we already?" asked Ariadne, thinking he was speaking of their pasts and projections.  
Arthur paused again, for longer than usual, and said softly,  
"No...no, I don't think we did. We both held something back."  
The words fell loosely around her ears, and Ariadne slowly looked up to meet his gaze. So he knew. So...he felt...  
The conversation lasted hours. He confessed pretty straightly. All his life, he'd been searching for a partner, a full time partner. One who possessed certain qualities, but most importantly; one who shared his dream.  
And she was it.  
"I noticed you the first time we really talked," he said softly. She waited for his words with bated breath. Never had she really heard Arthur talk like this.  
"You get so involved with your mazes...and you know how to solve them. Even mazes that aren't your own."  
As he placed his hand on hers gently, she felt a tug from the back of her memory...something, something, a truth she'd once known...  
"You're like the Ariadne of myth," he said, but she already knew the words that would come, and she finished them for him.  
"-the mortal who lead heroes through the labyrinth with a piece of twine."  
He stared, amazed. Perhaps she knew the myth very well; or perhaps she was being incredibly perceptive yet again.  
That was the thing Arthur admired most in a person; perception. For he was terrible at revealing emotion, and it took a person with a lot of understanding to comprehend him.  
She told him of her bar dream, unwillingly. And of her fear, fear that she would hurt him...  
"Why are you so afraid of that?" he asked, with true questioning in his voice. He did not understand her obsession.  
She looked away, biting her lip. Could he ever really understand?  
"The first thing I ever heard Mal say to me was, 'Do you know what's it's like to be a lover? To be one half a whole?'"  
"What'd you say?"  
"No. Arthur...I'm so selfish. I've always been... It's what killed my dad..."  
"Ariadne, you did not kill your father. Austin McHalain did."  
"But if I hadn't gone-"  
"But if I hadn't been driving the car 50 instead of 25, we wouldn't have fallen under the car."  
"But that's different..."  
"Do you think I meant to kill Katherine?"  
"No-"  
"Did you mean to kill your father?"  
"No!"  
"Then it wasn't your fault."  
"Arthur...I don't want to hurt you..."  
"I'm willing to take the risk."  
It was those final words that sent them into their first kiss. Their first real kiss.  
It was short and sweet, for Ariadne smiled as she ran her fingers through his hair and said,  
"I think we forgot something."  
"What?" he asked.  
She stood up and looked out the window.  
"A memory; something we locked away inside ourselves because the memories around it were difficult."  
He stood up and she turned to face him, with love and understanding flowing between their eyes.  
"A truth we once knew but chose to forget."  
He paused, as always.  
"And what may that be?" he finally asked, drawing near to her.  
Her next sentence would remain with him until the day he died.  
"A vision of true love."

(Why don't y'all chew on that. Those words were very carefully selected and there's a lot of symbolism, especially in the final dialogue. Did you catch any of it? Leave me a review and let me know! I'm subtle, but if nobody understood it I don't want to be too subtle. Anyways, enjoy. I hope you liked my usage of the lines in the movie. Sorry it was so cheesy/)


	5. Chapter 5

With all their feelings revealed, the new couple walked down the shores of limbo hand in hand. It didn't take long to find Cobb, amongst non-responsive projections of James and Phillipa. "Cobb? Cobb, can you hear us?" Ariadne asked a man who was lying face first in the sand. Cobb looked up slowly. "Ariadne?" he muttered weakly. "Yeah. Yeah, it's me...come on, Cobb, we need to get you out of here." "Why? I finally made it home..." "No, Cobb," said Arthur. "This is limbo, you're still dreaming..." "Then how did you get here?" he said, sitting up. "You were back at the hotel...Ariadne left with Fischer." Arthur nodded and said to Ariadne, "Good, he's sane; he still remembers the job." He faced Dom. "Cobb, we came back for you." "You'd never take a risk like that." "No. But Ariadne would." Arthur smiled at her, and Cobb shook his head, not wanting to believe it. "James...Phillipa..." He reached for his totem but couldn't find it. "You lost it, Cobb. And you should have known better than to use Mal's." Cobb just sat bewildered, looking like a confused child. Arthur turned to Ariadne. "How long you think he's been down here?" "Let's see...five minutes in reality, one hundred minutes on the first level, thirty three hours the second, a month the third, so in limbo-" "You can't assume the time function is the same for limbo," he said. "True...but if it was, then he'd have been here about...one and a half years, plus the time we spent on the first level, so probably two years." Arthur shook his head. "Poor guy." ... It took a few more minutes to convince Cobb. He began to become more aware and awake, almost as if he was waking up from a strange dream. They then proceeded directly to the city center, and with the sweep of a hand, Arthur sent the buildings toppling, from the very edge towards the middle. Ariadne still got nervous before death, even in dreams, and she huddled towards Arthur. On the very last second, before the final buildings came crashing down on their heads, Arthur pulled her close and kissed her forehead. Eames was quite glad to see them all awake, and Saito made the phone call. It took a while for Cobb to trust his surroundings (he'd seen this happen before) and he quickly created a new totem. Finding that he could no longer control his environment, he decided that this was indeed reality. They couldn't act as if they knew each other for a week at least, to shake off Cobol and anyone else who could be watching. But Arthur and Ariadne stared, him slyly and her happily, for the rest of the trip. (*Ahem* As is customary with uh, Inception, I shall live up to the original and give you a short, unsatisfying ending.) Epilogue "Can I look yet?" "Nope. Still gotta open the door." Arthur clicked the lock and showed Ariadne the brand new apartment. She gasped at first in amazement at the beautiful suite and then frowned. "Arthur, you lied." He laughed as he lead her into the scenic kitchen. "Yes, this place is real. Do you like it?" She looked at the view of Seattle with a soaring heart. "One of my favorite works of architecture." He laughed. "Oh, you." Arthur had loosened up incredibly over the past few months she'd gotten to know him. She smiled as he brewed a pot of coffee, then brought it to her, and looked fondly at her reflection in the mirror. Finally he buried his head in her hair and whispered the story of the place. How he'd dreamed of a life he could share, a vision of true love, with a woman in Seattle, his favorite city of all. And how he'd wanted this condominium, but refused to buy it until he'd married. Ariadne raised a brow in silent question. "Well, then why did you buy it now?" He smiled his typical mischevious smile and said, "I was willing to take the risk." She was touched beyond words when he withdrew the ringbox from his pocket, and nearly fell over in joy. But before he could kneel, there was a sound from behind them in the bedroom. "Aw. How cute." The voice was sarcastic and evil in tone. Ariadne turned to face the stranger, a blonde haired woman with tacky fingernails and makeup. She'd seen her before, but she couldn't put a finger on where. Arthur furled his brow. "The flight attendant?" he asked, bewildered. She smirked, raising a gun and leveling to his forehead. Three thugs stepped out from behind her, weapons raised. "Oh no...not you..." Arthur muttered. Ariadne clutched him in fear, confused. The woman smirked again. "I don't like getting cheated of pay, handsome. And I found somebody who will pay... handsomly." "Cobol engineering," muttered Arthur viciously. Of all the moments to pop in... "Bingo," said the flight attendant, who raised her gun and uncapped the safety. ... HAHAHAHAHAHAHA I AM EVIL! MUHAHAHAHA! The end. XDDDD Whatcha think? :D 


End file.
